1 year later and a lot missing, here's Istanbul.

Before I forget what the high feels like, I wanted to write at this normal awake hour of 12am. I enter to win a trip to San Francisco at the daily muse.com to see start-ups even thgh I'm in Europe. I'm thinking about the future but trying to soak up all this present that is almost sleepless and exhausting, but filled with living moments that I'm so thankful to be awake for.

I just returned from Istanbul on Sunday evening, but it feels like minutes ago as my days this week have progressed without stopping. A group of us (Samantha, Joanna, Steven and Catherine) went and met with Anna and Patrick and then of course everyone else that made the trip filled up with new faces, friendly stories, laught, random, small amounts of time. I first stopped in Madrid to visit Christine and Fernando. Both exchanged were spent talking about the past and then with Fernando in his lovely new piso drinking wine and talking politics in Spanish. The next morning I made my way to the airport and we flew Swiss to Istanbul, stopping in Zurich. It was a little taste of that pleasant time that could be had in rich Switzerland. (one day!) we spent a kabillion hours traveling, but marveled at the free chocolate, free food, free views of the Alps provided by Swiss and find our hostel with little trouble. As expected, friendly hostel staff awaited us and we immediately became friends with sakir an Sami who gave us hookah and tea. I ate the best sandwich in the world from a street cart. It's pig intestines, but why bother with ingredients when it's just good anyway. The next morning a guy from Catherine's 8-track playlist showed up and gave us a tour of the city- a decision that would prove so beneficial to our trip. We looked out the window at this posh looking guy with sunglasses and decided to give it a go. He led us around Istanbul, showing us mosques and the gran bazaar. Our 2 full days of sight-seeing honestly melted into one. We enjoyed a long lunch and then caramel hookah in a park and the sun faded and we went to the top of a tower to see the city from afar. Into the evening we made our way back to the hostel and were of course inticed by souvenirs and candy. Before a light dinner, we went to the top of the hostel and Sami treated us to dj hits. It turned into an extreme, sober dance party that I loved. We even made a Harlem shake video and forced Other hostel guests to be apart of it. I will post the final edit. We forced ourselves to eat dinner and resumed dancing which led to being talked into going out which led to meeting more wonderfuls and stepping foot in a rave which felt psychedelic. I'm angry that I can't or won't take the time to put in more details here, but I must go on with this and edit later. Catherine and I awoke with maybe 4 hours of sleep to hit the streets. We missed the morning bit with batu, but started off in A mosque for awhile with people from our hostel. We waited for the other group near the mosque, sipping coffee and I ate Kebab which I never thought I'd like. We took a long journey to the Asia part of turkey. It didn't look Asian as you'd imagine it and there was nothing to see. I think a bit of restlessness led to lots of funny jokes. It made good for group collaboration and going with the flow. When we returned we were almost tempted to rest at the hostel, but thank god we didn't because batu took us to the best part of Istanbul. We saw the modern area filled w merchants and high class restaurants and clubs. We got a glimpse at the cable bridge of Istanbul. Is it one of the few in the world? I'll have to look. We spent too much time buying and buying. I felt giddy over the jewelry. Dinner was in a nice little restaurant that sold us cheese pizza like something anothers which was good for me. We uploaded instagram pics. We smoked a purple cigar that was actually from fort lauderdale and that made me feel stupid. It was a treat for batu. Afterwards, we still kept saying, okay, we're not going to the club. Buttttt we did. We went to maxim first- a great square center filled with tourists and mostly local Turkish people. Batu weaved us in and out of people. I'm proud of myself for being fine with being led and not knowing where we were going to end up because it's so against my OCD nature. So they we were in some local karaoke bar listening to hits from home and hits from abroad, both equally wonderful. After a beer the girls signed up to sing songs that are normal when in Normal circumstances but so much better in this setting. I felt proud and lively and had no inhibitions. Batu had to peel us away so that we could make our journey to the known club that he was so proud of. By the 12am hour most of us were hanging by a thread and exhausted and without ganas to drink or dance. So We sat on a wooden rocking swing and let batu notice the sleep in our eyes. All of us parted ways back to the hostel. I visited its Sami to tell her thank you and to get some sleep. The next morning Catherine and I tried to see the palace but it's size proved impossible to cover in the short amount of time. We did visit the blue mosque which was barely blue, I got my three pashmina scarves, some postcards, a couple of other presents for various recipients. We ate the last free, perfect Turkish breakfast, packed our belongings and commenced the journey home that was not very memorable apart from some dishonest person stealing my precious iPod and nail polish out of my check-on bag. I don't want to go into further ranting or I'll just feel upset.

I haven't spent enough time documenting what all of this feels like, but I get so high off travel. During the moments of no self composure and living in the music or the sights or the awkward language exchanges, my blood rushes to my head. I can't stop smiling. And in retrospect, everything is even more Amazing. The group travel was a fantastic idea. Despite the little bickers here and there, we all thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Despite the sleepiness, getting out of my routine of Seville made coming back into this head-on week was less daunting. I suppose that little lesson is to continually change things up, even when (and it will!) life becomes quite monotonous. Oh but, thanks god! Because I am so thankful for all of this. I'm happy to meet people who open up their arms to foreigners, who guide without judgement or motives and who let me enjoy theirs, and spoil me too. The exchange of cultures, I suppose it is, is the best exchange ever. Bartering for experiences is a million times better than a wad of paper bills in exchange for some Thing that will sit on my desk and collect dust. We're doing this unofficial sharing of our lives and what we know and mostly now I'm just getting to soak in all of Theirs. I feel wrapped up in the love. And it hopefully does and will continue to pressed down on all the evil that is and will be. I want to keep a positive, unscarred outlook on travel and trust in fellow humans. My last post, basically a year ago, was a me filled w a lot of animosity which still lingers now and again.

The details contain the pictures of all of this wonderfulness and I promise to take the time to lay that out for, well, myself, at least! 

Windmills in Consuegra

For one thing, a part of me popped out yesterday when I saw a familiar face on my FaceTime screen that gave me this sense of something sure that I can't put a word to. As I'm always struggling to fully reveal my personality and the memories that make up who I am, starting a conversation where it left off with a person that really knows you is so comfortingly easy. I feel a blanket of relief, for whatever reason, from the pressure of making decisions. I feel at ease about letting the future present itself to me as it comes. I hope that I am attentive when I do decide.

Today I went to see the windmills that so represent this region in the middle of Spain. The stain of Spain. I was walking along the same path of Don Quixote and walking on steps of ancient castles that saw wars and the same wind that was blowing in my hair. I am fascinated with the history of this place and how long ago it seems. And in the same breath, Uranus only orbits the sun once in 84 earth years-- basically a human lifetime. (We are learning English vocabulary in science.) Time is mind-blowing. 

the misfortune of traveling

So I feel like it's finally the right moment to sit down and reflect on the past several months as there have been many ups and downs as I'm sure is representative of all of our lives, depending on how you look at it. I am sitting in the living room of my already burning up piso amongst piles of Spanish homework I'm trying to get done. The sun is shining brightly, and summer is arriving sooner than last year. This scares me. I woke up yesterday with a tingly in my throat and sure enough, some sort of allergy or sickness is in my chest. Every week is another adventure!

Last month, Bryn and I finally decided to go to Morocco for a 4 day weekend. It's the one place we had been putting off seeing because of safety and since we had another girl coming along, Mree, it seemed safer. It's unfortunate that this word, safety, is even associated with Morocco, but after being mugged, the word proved worthy. I started writing my friend a letter about my experience in Marrakech with the introduction being, "I was robbed in Morocco," but as I let myself digress, I realized that I had wonderful, detailed memories of the place that I wouldn't allow myself to remember in light of the robbing. So I got mugged. Mree, Bryn and I were walking back to our hostel as the sun was setting, in the outskirts of the center area, and some young dude was there in my path. I knew the second before it happened, that the seconds that were to follow were going to be a struggle. He ripped off my strap with ease, dragged me the ground and pulled me until I couldn't hold on. All that strength I thought I had! I apparently ran after him. I know I said several curse words of hate until I retreated, turned to Bryn, squeezed her face with my dirty hands and fell into a heap of sobs. I wanted her to feel it too. No one in the streets did anything but stare. I was basically being carried by Bryn as we finished running our way back to the hostel through crowds of staring Moroccans. Some guys said in English, "Don't cry girl." When we got back to the hostel, our lovely host gave us tea and sympathized with me. I didn't stop crying. I remember I had left two special, super valuable rings in the purse. A gold and diamond heirloom from my aunt and David Yurman favorite. I know that sounds so diva-ish. Bye bye rings, camera, iPod touch with years of obtained music, pink Spain phone, Bobby Brown lipstick, lipgloss, my favorite pen, American chapstick, 2 credit cards and my driver's license, a free scrub I had just gotten and my Marrakech map. That's what was in that H&M terrible black purse. If that man knew the value of all of that, he will be living like a king in Morocco now. So after like 30 minutes of sobbing and asking for shots of something and apologizing to these other clueless American babies (ok- study abroad students) for crying, I was convinced to go to the police station to report the issue. Mree came with me because Bryn was throwing up her couscous from earlier. We had to walk to the place twice because I didn't bring my passport the first time and then we had to go to a copy store because these 1920's prison/police stations didn't have computers or copiers. There was a toothless man chained to a holding cell crying. The officer told me that the woman had yelled when this guy mugged her and therefore, people were more alert and able to capture him. "Did you scream when this happened?" "Yes and I called him some bad names in English, but I suppose since no one speaks English here they thought I willing gave him my purse." This is how I felt as I went through the questions. We came back to the hostel. I spoke to the caretakers for awhile so for peace and then I went to my bunk succumb to exhaustion.

Before this, we arrived in Marrakech on Thursday morning and were transported to our hostel by van. We saw camels within 5 minutes and women completely covered in black. There seemed to be no standards for traffic either. We weaved our way through tiny curved streets filled with merchants selling hand-made goods and fruit and arrived at our hostel. We were greeted by a lovely man who told us the details of our contract and led us to our room. After some freshening-up we went to the center for our first lunch and to take in the crowd. We had been forewarned about the snake charmers, monkey handlers and henna tattoo ladies. We found a restaurant that according to Rick Steve was awesome. Typical couscous, chicken something another, vegetables, water. Our mouths were yellow with the spice dye. We walked around, took a picture with a monkey, were harassed by the henna ladies. I think we saw one mosque, bought oil for our hair from a nice couple who sold it for cheap, bought postcards and were ripped off when we bought dried fruit. We smoked hookah at the hostel, had tea and somehow joined in on a surprise birthday celebration for some other people who were staying in our hostel. It was an awesome first day. Day 2, we woke up, met a guy (can't remember the names), who took us to a bus. We had our very own private bus to see the Berber villages this day. We saw lots of beautiful scenery on the way. We learned about the traditions of the Muslims and how Marrakech thrives-- off tourism. The berber house that we entered was made by hand. There was no electricity. The women never left the house and made their own flour and everything they ate and wore. The washed themselves weekly in a stream room with black smoke. A little boy told our tour guide not to let us touch his donkey because last time the visitors touched him too much. We entered the house all westernized looking. I felt the sensation to cover my hair. Our tour guide was modernly dressed but told us that he too was apart of a Berber village and knew how to keep warm in the winter by building fires and how to make things from scratch, but he doesn't believe in arranged marriages. We were served a typical Berber breakfast-- bread (homemade of course), honey, butter and jam. Tea was included of course. We ate as much as we wanted. We tried to say thank you to the hostesses as best as possible. They seemed so graceful and dark. A little girl in the house offered to give us henna tattoo for a small donation and we did it-- each of us. Apparently, many people live within the household and each person has his/her duty. It's a system that works and that has lasted in modern times. After the breakfast we stopped by a herb area and were informed about various herbs and there purposes. I bought henna (why?) and herbs for hunger suppression (ha). We then had to have lunch. We were the only ones in the restaurant. We were served basically a 4 course meal, mounds of food-- tomato salad, couscous again with some marinated meat, fruit and tea and chocolate for desert, loads of bread. I couldn't breathe afterwards. We went to the waterfall at the top of a mountain next. The sun was blazing in February. I can't imagine July. We climbed to the top over slippery rocks and other people. Of course we passed merchants selling hand-made statues and trinkets. Marrakech thrives off tourism. After this adventure, we headed back to the city center. We made an appointment with the spa for later. Later came, we decided to walk to the spa which was outside the city center. We once again dodged camels, donkeys, people on motorbikes, quickly moving pedestrians with no shoes. It reminded me of the Sega video game of Aladdin. We went through a sketchy neighborhood of guys working on cars and even said out loud that is was a little dangerous. The spa was brilliant. We had to get down to our undies. We sat in a steam room and let our pours open up. Some ladies came in and rubbed black soap all over our bodies. Afterwards, layers of skin were scrubbed off my bodies. It was just like what it looks like when you get a pedicure, except this was body skin. It was a bit freaky, but I liked the experience. The 3 of us sat there breathing in hot air, thinking about the Moroccan ladies covered in black who come here once a week to get their scrub as a way of life. Afterwards we sat in our white robes and sipped tea and ate a chocolate treat. It was as if we were royalty. And that's how Marrakech was to me. These glamorous spas and tours and villas with guards amongst poverty. So when we left, the sun was fading, but we kept walking in the same direction we came. As I reflect back, I realize that perhaps this plan had evolved during our stay at the spa. The next day, we sun-bathed and they listened to me be existentialist and ask a lot of unanswerable questions. We ate a nice touristy restaurant were the food was amazing of course. We sat among French royalty it seemed like, and I kept thinking, how is it possible for these French people to walk around with their Louis' and me get mugged? We were running back to the hostel. I'm aways running, but even with nothing of valuable of my ripped and black coat, I felt that something else could be taken. We let night come and slept and then we returned to Ciudad Real.

There are so many more details of this trip that I can't include for the reader because it becomes to exhausting, as it already is. But imagine what it feels like to have nothing in your hands at the airport except your passport (thank God). So sometimes are we carrying around this needless things like lipstick? I don't know. I'm still comforted by having them. One of the hardest bits has been to not take it so personally. I think I've damned the man who did this to me over and over and over and it'd be nice to let it go. If only someone could understand what those rings meant to me. But it won't change it. And I realized that life is full of these big ugly surprises. Surprise! No, really. You don't know that and all those other clichés that exist until they happen to you and form your opinions. I don't know if these kinds of things are necessary for thanks or for learning or for being more aware or for the simple change that it creates in the chaos of plans and walking really fast. There are going to other times that I'm taken to my knees and dragged around. It's a bit frightening, but as they all say, we've lived through this one. It hurts, yes. It hurts. In relation to my own experience, I hope as I've seen, that the hate/revengefulness I have within, fades away and I can just keep remembering the vivid colors of Marrakech and the oppositeness of it to my westernized worlds in Spain and the USA. I don't want it to keep me from traveling, from smiling at strangers because I'm scared they will look at me as a typical American. But keeping the guard up is my lesson. There are levels of goodness and badness and desperateness that I have no idea about.

I wanted this post to be about my experiences in general over the past few weeks. It's obviously become about just this one thing. I suppose it's been festering within! I ran a 10k two weekends ago and then pulled a neck muscle. I went to Cordoba last weekend. I'm studying Spanish a lot. I'm cutting back on my eating because I'm too self-concious to get into shorts with any extra weight. I still smile when I eat sweet cake, but beat myself to death for enjoying it later. Don't know how to fix that bit.

So, this is this for now. More time will bring different moods.

The weather on October 7th is phenomenal in Ciudad Real. Stay!

One of the first thoughts I had when I arrives in Spain is that I should have gotten feather extensions in my hair because I could have started the trend here!

I came back and the spanish words that I already knew sort of just flowed again right out of my mouth, but there's so much less talking and more thinking again. Miquel is with me now and what took a week when I first arrive in Sept. 2010 took a day with native Miquel who has been so helpful with his car and his understanding. I'm so spoiled.

First off, Spanish economy is in a crisis (Not like other places aren't!) and a bit of funding has been cut from schools (of course). That worries me quite a bit because I almost didn't get paid my last month there. But, I have hope. If the money runs out then I will go back to the United States. But I'm looking forward, much more, this year to teaching. I have a more concrete schedule with lots of science classes. I think I will feel motivated to make a difference.

And most of all, I'm not leaving this country until I've kind of mastered the language! I must push myself!

I forgot to tell you all my stories

I have a million tiny stories to share about my daily life here. I have pieces of stories written on scraps of paper so that I can remember to put them here, but for now, because it's nearing the end (WOW, Vaya!) I just wanted to say this: From all that I've learned, I think the most subtle and yet recognizable to me is that it really is sometimes so much sweeter to say nothing. It's not always important to say everything or anything at all. There is something sweet about the silence, the unknown, the lack of clarity in situations that don't even need clarifying. It reminds me of how many times too many words made moments confusing for us already complicated and unsure humans. This entire journey has felt like it's always about words, understanding words, making myself clear, and yet, with so few words life continues and things happen and in the end, I am understood. Contrary to me generally wanting grand explanations and poetry and dramatic paths to solutions that normally never come, this feeling of taking myself back, hushing my heart, having to remain silent while surrounded by all this Spanish is truly refreshing. I think I can say right now that simplicity, tranquility (this word in Spanish is used so often.. tranquilo tranquilo) doesn't mean that nothing is happening or that things aren't being analyzed enough. I like it.

tengo ganas hacer esto

I love seeing this blank space staring at me on my computer screen. (the Locoturio´s computer because of course my internet does not work) I have been thinking of writing an update over the past several days, but have only now taken the time. Last night I went to the Ciudad Real fair. In April and May many cities are famous for their incredible fairs. Although not entirely incredible, going to the fair was something different. There was no ferris wheel, but there were bumper cars and lots of carnival food like hotdogs. There were also about 7 tents with different Spanish music for dancing. It felt very Spanish, and although being there made me feel very American, I enjoy these authentic atmospheres. I enjoy watching the traditional dances, the people singing along to words I don´t know, and being apart of yet another pleasurable activity the Spanish put so much priority on. I get inspired by reading really good articles. I must thank Lauren for leaving the Paste magazines for me. After reading several film and book reviews (from 2010, ha) I had this sense of confidence and clarity about going home this summer. I would like to spend all of my time reading, catching up on documentaries and films, studying Spanish and spending as much time as possible with a list of people I have in my head. These musical reviews and articles also make me wish I had grown up in Memphis or Brooklyn (2 very cool but very opposite American cities) with parents who were exactly alike and exposed me to art when I was born so that it would be inherent in me. I would have surely become an artist or writer. Lastly, the Lilith Fair article, about the 1997-1999 women´s music festival started by Sarah McLachlan, made me think a lot about putting into words something I´ve felt before about my teenage years. It helped put into words for me what trying to be apart of the music scene was like when I was ages 14 to 18 and even more. It was always about the boys. And thát´s exactly it. The girls wanted to be apart of the music scene (like anyone) because it was super cool, dedicated, messy, loud and our parents didn´t understand. And because we wanted the boys? Or we liked the music? But to think about playing an instrument seemed out of the question. Too scared? I think most just too intimidated. There were lots of girl fans at Furnace Fest, but there were never girl artists. That´s something I didn´t think about at the time because it just was like this. I like seeing the music scene change. And I also just got done reading Half the Sky. Rootin´on the girls of this world! Random: I think it´d be great to have one of those movie relationships where you never knew you could end up loving someone so much. The couple is sitting at a park (but they don´t know they´re a couple) and the male says (during the moment of silence), "I think I love you" and without hestitation the female goes, "I´m going to marry you" as if both vomitted the words. I wish my internet worked because, you know, you always want to do the most when you can remember. I want to tell about Christmas vacation more. I have a lot of great stuff from observing people in airports during that travel time. I´m also thinking about how being in Spain and especially with Miquel, has taught me to think more about what I eat and how I´m going to make it. Flo also taught me a tiny bit about cooking when he stayed with me during Carnaval. I mean I have vergüenza when I cut tomatoes in front of Miquel. And "it´s cool" to eat cool stuff, instead of it being a chore. Most people visit Mercadona everyday. Mealtime is the most important. It´s important to eat well, and that´s surely new for me. I´m going to keep this mindset in PC. I´m continually thinking about advice I want to give to my children. It´s like this automatic assumption that what I´ve learned will be advice for my children because I´m doing what I can when really I´d like to tell this to younger, less experienced Jaclyn and do it over again.. I think. Passing on knowledge to our descendants. But I want to tell my girl(s) that first off, outer beauty is way overrated no matter how much doubt you have about that throughout your adolescence. It´s April now, and it just feels like the downslide of my time here this year. After being sick the last part of March and now that I´ve recovered, I have a refreshed sense of purpose for being here. I have so much excitement (rather than dread) about studying and learning Spanish. I am also so thankful for the sunshine and the good people who want to be apart of my life. I´m also very excited about music these days, spending my free time (and with working internet) trying to discover some more goodies. Lastly, let´s enjoy this day! Say, "okay!" when we make some plans, but try really hard to not want to turn the pages of the planner too quickly! ¿de acuerdo?

Today

So as it goes, the adventurer must rest, come to terms with routine, and still find goodness in the very moment that is now. So since Prague, I have not traveled and only saved. Dreary Ciudad Real becomes more dreary, with a long winter I'm not use to. But this week the sun is shining, the prices are still low here, and I walk at most, 30 minutes to any given destination. And I'm in the heart of Spain. I've taken little hikes here and there in Castilla La Mancha, the region of my beloved city, and appreciate the simplicity of this place, the flat land, the glassy lakes, the numerous rivers, narrow, windy roads not bombarded by shopping centers and fast food. I have taken more time to study Spanish. I've gotten to know this place more.

Hello sunshine

I had planned on copy and pasting what I wrote in my journal of the details of my Christmas break trips. I'll get back to that later. Today I woke up to a gorgeous and freezing day in Ciudad Real. If there's sun the cold doesn't matter. I have been downloading some music. I miss dancing so much. There's really nothing more tranquil and soothing for me than dancing. I have dual desires: I so desperately want to master Spanish to be able to communicate better with the people I'm constantly in contact with. And then I find myself craving American music, English anything, nostalgia for easy understanding. It's like homework in college. I will detail the entire house, organize my g-mail before I will sit down and concentrate on studying.

Despite the new feeling that still exists here, routines form. Mondays replicate past Mondays. Do I find comfort in routine and knowing what the expect? Yes. I will admit that because I'm trying to speak only Spanish, I have found that I use the phrases "I can't wait for.." "I hope" and "I wish" a lot. I feel like I'm living in the now, but perhaps it's inevitable to keep looking forward, in those moments of silence, monotony.. not being able to stop your mind from imaging what's next.

I have decided to reapply to the program for another year. I can request another city, perhaps in the lovely Andalucia, but I fell in love with my school before Christmas. As well, I have made helpful contacts, great friendships, met a boy worth sticking around for, and find that I enjoy a smaller city as opposed to the gigantic Madrid or Barcelona. Plus, I need to keep learning Spanish!

There's more to come.

Hot in the face today

Spanish bureaucracy is a bit difficult. It involves a lot of waiting. I have been waiting for my NIE card which will make me a legal resident of this country for a time period since I got here. I found out today that the head of the school district forgot to put my name on the call list. So I spent the afternoon, with the help of my great friend Manoli, speaking with officials. At first I was told it was going to be impossible for me to leave the country for my upcoming vacations, but then that it's a risk I can take and really the NIE card is only good within Spain. When I came back from Bristol, the customs representative in Madrid barely looked at my passport before letting me through so I'll take the risk since I've already spent my entire monthly salary on my Christmas vacation. Today was the first day I actually felt panicked, but as usual, no pasa nada.

Then Manoli and I spent the long car ride back to Moral speaking about relationship lingo. She explained the proper terms to be used and the important questions to ask and how to ask them. As well, I learned that "te amo" is hardly used in Spain. Rather, "te quiero" is more appropriate. Americans believe they are speaking wise Spanish when they say "te amo." When we got to school I got to help the 4th graders make pizzas. We are also playing a game called "Invisible Friend" (Secret Santa) this week, and I've gotten an assortment of Spanish cookbooks. Not bad. I expect the week to end with lots of delicious food and next week will consist of only games and fun. Me encanta!

6 buses, 6 trains & 2 planes

This weekend I visited Charles & Kyle in Cardiff (well a small village nearby) in Wales in the United Kingdom. I calculated that I spent 24 hours of the weekend just traveling and 34 hours actually with my friends. To get from one small village to another country to another small village requires buses, trains and planes. Pressing "accept" buttons & watching money disappear from my bank account is the easy part. Anyway, it was worth it. This is part of it. It was such a relaxing weekend in Cardiff. The inclement weather was expected. There's never much sunshine, but there wasn't any snow, luckily! We went to several pubs and ate local food and had Guinness beer which is was oh, so tasty. We sat by a fire last night and got to know kyle's fellow chiropractic mates. I finally got to see where Kyle has spent the last 4 years of his life. There were rolling hills, loads of sheep perched on the sides of these hills and signs in English and in Welsh. Kyle introduced me to the local coffee and Welsh cakes. We visited an old English bookstore, played Christmas music & had a proper English breakfast this morning.

I enjoyed listening to Charles & Kyle spit their medical terms, knowledge about diseases and what their grueling exams were like. It was informative and interesting. Kyle also pretended to be handicapped (spur of the moment, he says) in order to get passed on old lady to the handicapped toilet. Charles described only being able to take a bath for the first 4 months in the UK which was quite a process for him considering his height!! Lots of laughs.

As we go from Northside Baptist youth group to studying and teaching in Europe a lot changes and so many little things stay the same. It was simply a home-like feeling for me this weekend with these dudes. A girl at the pub last night kept repeating to me, "You all are from the same city in Florida and why are you here? Are you crazy?" And it was so nice explaining that just to be hanging with old friends in a new place is really enjoyable. Once again, I just can't believe how lucky I am.

I miss home on Sundays

I think everyone has that little nostalgic feeling on Sundays no matter where he or she is in the world or whom he or she is with. I typically spend Sundays alone, unless traveling, catching up, reading, preparing, thinking about what I haven't gotten done, feeling bad about that, enjoying a movie on my tiny TV, and chatting with Jesùs, a clase particulare student, in the evenings. Today I have been trying to put together the puzzle that is my Christmas break in order to get in as much travel as possible for the least amount of money. The latter is surely impossible. It is a beast. With my slow internet connection and the enormous amount of so-they-say cheap airline options I have spent hours going back and forth. But I have accomplished booking a flight to Prague and will be skiing with Kylah and Felipe in the Sierra Nevada at the beginning of 2011. Last night I was the first quest to arrive to my 2nd Thanksgiving feast at Mady, Bryn and Noemi's house so I sat on the couch staring at a map of Europe and feeling overwhelmed by the dozens of cities I have to visit before heading back to the United States. I will surely have to spend another year on this incredible continent.

My fellow American auxiliares, myself and others were able to put together two Thanksgiving dinners this past week. It was great to share the tradition with our Spanish friends. Both Bryn & Kylah were able to pull off the stuffing which is the most important part of the meal. It was delicious. When it was my turn to say aloud what I was thankful for I kept thinking about the movie Hook during the meal scene with all the imaginary food, except that in my case, the food was real, the perfection of my current situation is real. I don't think I've thought about that enough until this weekend.

A couple of weeks ago my umbrella was destroyed by sideways, pelting rain in Moral de Calatrava on my walk to the miniscule shelter of a bus stop where I must sit and wait. With that rain brought very chilly weather to this city, and I'm told it only gets worse from here. I have tackled the phrase, "tengo frio," because I use it every single day.

This Tuesday I went horseback riding in a small pueblo called Migelturra with the music teacher from my school, Marta. Once again, it was another situation in which I could only laugh. It must be 4 years since I've last ridden, and I think I was overconfident when I mounted the horse. Even at the youthful age of 25, my stamina has decreased and I actually got scared for a moment when my Spanish horse started cantering. Of course they gave me Old & Slow. Marta kept yelling, "You must kick him harder!" And I was thinking, yes, I'm kicking the freaking horse as hard I possibly can. "Vamos horsey. Vamos!" The instructor spoke to me in Spanish as if I understood every word, like all the people do here, and I just smiled and made arm motions. The experience was just perfect though. I had lunch at Marta's house in her small village. She showed me that she was practically next door neighbors with her parents and everyone she knows. We looked at photo albums of her travels and Carnivale (I can't for this!) for which she makes all of her costumes.

Seriously almost every experience I have had here has been so pleasant. Despite waiting for trains, occasionally getting rained on, having to walk and walk and walk, I still am constantly learning. I'm so impressed with the Spanish peoples' commitment to their families. Everyone I've met has been more than hospitable, welcoming, eager to share this pleasurable country with me.

Tomorrow starts my week 1 week, as I call it, and then we have a puente and a ton of vacation time!

I do miss, but I'd miss this more right now. Hasta pronto.

I sit with my english thoughts

Everyone in Spain loves futbol (soccer) especially the children, and since Spain is coming off a World Cup win, they are even more ecstatic. There are some talented 8-year-old athletes in my classes who know everything about soccer. As I mentioned, I teach English in a LOT of P.E. classes. I know very little about the standards for physical education but have spent some time looking up old games we use to play in middle school like Capture the Flag which the teachers find very fascinating. Today I finally met the "real" P.E. coaches after being confused for a month about why I was working with teachers who spoke zero English. The female coach was in Canada teaching and the male coach was on paternity leave. Yes, paternity leave.. for a month. Ana greeted me with a ginormous hug and her enthusiasm poured out during the very first class of 2nd graders. I also met Javi today. If you have the typical American idea of what a "Javi" would be, you're exactly right. This 6"3 beast of a man has deep eyes and dark longish hair, curls at the end, and gel to hold it back. His nose is large. His skin is tanned all year 'round. He of course played professional (or some sort of semi-professional) futbol in his "younger" years although he doesn't look a day over 30. He speaks Spanish fast and loudly, using his hands to get the point across to the children. I have finally seen a real Spanish man. Later this afternoon I mentioned to Manoli my take on Javi, and she, without discretion, offered up the information that he "has been successful with many of the ladies in the past." I, at first, thought she kept saying "sexual", which is really the same, and we had a huge laugh. Today I also sat through a meeting where two representatives from some healthcare company were trying to persuade the teachers to use their services. The two kept looking at me for some reason, and I nodded as if in agreement although I had no idea what they were talking about. Manoli sat across laughing and poking fun. I got a free multi-colored pen out of it.

There is more play than work at my school. I spend my stressful hours traveling to and from school and the non-stressful hours following teachers around, trying desperately to understand what they'd like me to do and getting hugs from little Spanish niños who robotically say to me, "Hello. How are ju? I'm fine, thanks. bye bye." Hopefully I'll get something accomplished here.

Hurray for weekends

Despite my increasingly long workdays, I still can't believe I get to live a real life in Spain. This program is pretty amazing. I get to go to a brand new primary school and basically conversate in English with little kids. The salaried teachers take care of everything else. I got my first paycheck yesterday.

Bryn and I went to Toledo last weekend, and like she had promised, it was completely different than Ciudad Real. It was built on a mountain, like many Spanish cities, was extremely hilly, and the tiny roads created a maze for us. It's on the list of World Heritage Sites, the entire city that is. So of course we saw the grandiose cathedral, customary of all Spanish cities, and the mosques and natural wonders.

I have come to terms with the fact that for every 2 things I can't get done, I get 1 thing done. Slowly, but surely. I finally have an internet pincho so let's skype it up.

Halloween is tomorrow. I have face paint, a skeleton costume & a place to go. I will forever love theme parties and dressing up. Dancing will always be the best way to release endorphins, get to know people, show off my style & to get excited about life.

My motivation for learning Spanish: All of the cute boys at the gym!!!

kisses

It´s getting chilly

Last night the piso´s lights went out, and my roommate and I tried to figure it out. I was trying to understand the situation with her, but she speaks absolutely no English. The neighbors ended up helping. I made jokes in English, slowly, but to no avail, and I just went to bed.

I sorted out my work schedule with Manoli. Things are never completely clear for me. I am teaching mostly English in the music and P.E classes which is interesting because I spend most of my day just watching, singing songs with Marta (music teacher), and I guess will now play games and sports most of the time. Not too bad. This afternoon I had my first clase particulares with Tomas, the principal, and his kids. His family was very welcoming. We spoke only English, had lots of laughs, and I enjoyed his little dog (can´t remember the name). Names are very hard to pronounce and remember. I am very happy about the extra money I will get from these lessons and also getting to know Spanish lifestyle firsthand.

I get to sleep a little tomorrow. I don´t have to wake before sunrise to catch a bus. Hopefully this weekend I will go to Toledo with Bryn. I can´t wait to start traveling! I´m trying to budget but enjoy myself. I forgot to say, I didn´t sign a contract to live in my piso. I just paid. Things here are so relaxed and easy at times, and at other times, you are walking in circles. I think I´ll have the ¨to do list¨complete by the end of this month. There is really no way not to enjoy myself here though.

In the morning it´s as cold as it gets in Panama City. That is scary! So, lots of scarves, sweaters, jackets, boots from here on out.

I enjoy my lists. They make me feel productive, but I´m trying to just be open to what is happening around me. Another auxiliar said she wants to grow up to be an old Spanish man sitting on the benches of the city chillaxing and chatting it up with other old dudes, and this is true. It´s nice.

Adios for now.

pues........

Hola! So it's the end of basically my 2nd week in Spain. I only had to work on Thursday this week because of the puenta on Tuesday which is a Spanish holiday. There are supposedly lots and lots of these! The weather has been strange. This past weekend it was rainy and cold. I imagine that contributed to me getting sick on Monday with a cold. I spent most of the week resting and trying to get the right medications from the pharmacy. I missed school though, and I really enjoy working with the children.

(Moral de Calatrava at dawn)

Yesterday I went to my first free Spanish class. Ben, Paige's boyfriend, came as well. We were the only Americans and probably only 2 of maybe 5 who spoke English at all. It was introduction day so of course I was first to go in front of the class with another student and ask her all the questions I could think of in Spanish. Lots of laughs, lots of fun. I spent the rest of the day with Paige and Ben. We went to 6 Caja Castilla La Manchas (banks) until we finally found the one that can give us the Carnet Joven (youth card for discounts), but of course it was 2:15pm by then. Very odd hours for business here. Siesta is real!!!! We had burgers in an American restaurant, ha. They made sure to tell us we got free refills. Afterwards, Paige and I spent a hilarious afternoon searching for gyms and getting lost around town. She has a very magnetic personality. She's candid and extroverted, not afraid to ask for help with as much Spanish as possible.

(Paige & me in my piso. mucho mucho verde!!!)

Today I went to Almagro to see Manoli and meet her husband Checho and baby. Her home is stark white with the typical persianas window blinds which shuts out any light. These blinds are on all the windows in Spain. Good for sleeping not for waking. We went to a local restaurant and tried about 6 typical dishes of the area. Everything was fabulous especially the gacha and desserts. Checho tried to tell me a story about lemmings, the animals, which I mistook for lemons, the fruit. I was imagining suicide lemons and just said "si" "si" as I often do without understanding. When we figured it out there was unrelenting laughter. Lost in translation. Perdido en traduccion. Afterwards, they took me on a walk around the city. I saw the Plaza Mayor (every city has one) and Corral de Comedias, a famous theater. We finished the afternoon with cafe con leche and then headed back to Ciudad Real because the baby had made lots of caca in his diaper!

(Manoli & me in Almagro)

Tomorrow a group of us will travel to Madrid for the Rastro, a market with lots of great things to buy!

Oh yeah, we did the Tapa hop last weekend here, but I only made it to 7 bars. There were 32 in total.

(Tapa hop)

(Outskirts of Ciudad Real. There are trails for running.)

There are so many babies in Ciudad Real!

Learning the music.

This is a remix version of "We No Speak Amerikana," but it plays at every disco in Ciudad Real. It's a pretty fun song for groovin'.

Hola

Hola cyber world! I haven't blogged since the days of Xanga, and I'm nervous and shy as I type. I started my journey in Spain 6 days ago. The travel was less stressful than I imagined. I slept 1 hour instead of 0 hours, and sat next to a Chinese man from Buenos Aires who gave me his business card. He is the president of some sort of fishing company. This was my very first (of which I expect many) situation in which he could not speak English and I could not speak very much Spanish, and we still got along during the journey over the Atlantic. I was tickled by the Arab man to my left who couldn't stop laughing during the corny movie,Grown Ups. I was filled with excitement and hope in those moments, surrounded by the eclectic

voices of the passengers. Spain came quickly.

I've been so lucky since arriving because Kylah's roommates (Bryn, Madeline & Neomi) are all auxiliares and fluent in spanish. Bryn, from St. Louis, Missouri basically found my piso for me by translating to the landlords. Thank God. She has spoken spanish for 10 years (impressive) but is an all-American girl, and I expect that we will be great friends. Yesterday, she showed us a 4-5 minute video describing her life and city to show to the students this first week of school. What a great idea. Neomi is from Vermont and she became friends with Kylah quickly last year through this program. Madeline, from France, was Kylah's first encounter in Spain. Neither spoke very much spanish, but have overcome the barrier and are super tight now. This.gives.me.hope.

I am so eager to put together spanish sentences instead of speaking in spanglish. I knew it was coming; to be so interested in every new person I meet and having to sit quietly behind, hoping to learn a new word or too. This is so hard for me, Questions,but I imagine months down the road I will be able to say, "Ah, finally, Manoli, I get to ask you every detail I've been holding inside for all these months!"

And Manoli. She is my little guardian angel. I met her in the Plaza Mayor just hours after I arrived, and she came prancing towards me with a smile from ear to ear. We chatted slowly in English, both of us timid but curious, and by the end of our cafe con leches I felt welcomed and confident. Monday, at the orientation I sit still, understanding little of what is going on. She says "Me Maten!" (kill me!) after Juan Ignacio goes on and on about whatever important thing it is that I'm missing. I can't wait to have many laughs with this incredible Spanish woman. She is the English director at my school, Agustin Sanz, in Moral de Calatrava. My first day was today. Manoli gave me the tour of the pueblo, in 5 minutes. It looked more like a movie set against a backdrop of hills and windmills than a city. We visited the one and only bar in the town, the bar in which I will spend an hour in the morning having a cafe due to the early bus schedule. It's important to be flexible in Spain! I think I spent most of the day learning the Shakira song, Waka Waka, while dancing alongside spanish boys and girls. After school, another English teacher says, "Yes, we all go home at two. More play and less work." And that's why I'm here.

Kylah & Neomi helping haul my broken luggage across calle Toledo.

5 pisos, I got it to 1, without meeting the roommates. Buttttt, last night we came face to face, and it took 2 hours to get out about 20 main facts about each other. Ah, well, aprendo pronto! They are 2 spanish students who chain smoke in the piso but are making every effort to be friends with me. You must be adaptable in Spain!

I have spent almost every one of the 8640 minutes of time I've had here learning, being surprised, being stumped, feeling alone, feeling surrounded, having information overloads and most importantly, being inspired by this place I now ca

ll home. I have been to a weekly event called the botellon, similar to a university tailgate at night. I got a taste of spanish dance on my birthday. I hope to learn flamenco! Two nights ago I went with Madeline to a kabob restaurant with 9 others. At the table there were 2 people from Spain, 2 Colombians, 1 Italian, 1 German, Madeline the french girl, a Lithuanian girl, and me, the americana. It was exhilarating sitting amongst these special people trying my very best to get some sort of information across. When it happened, wow, that was magic. I just kept saying to Madeline, "I love this." Besides this, I have shared spanish and non-spanish

meals in Kylah's pisos with new and old friends, and laughed hysterically at Sandra's french accent interpretation of dirty American phrases. Laughter has been a prominent theme so far.

Tomorrow is my first bus trip to Moral de Calatrava. Day 2 with the kidos!

So much to learn.

A very simple piso.

Kylah, Philip, Ben, Paige, Flo y Bryn